I Said Forever, and I Meant It
by KaruiAme
Summary: Hell, if this was his weakness, Ash didn't mind being feeble for the moment. From McDonald's mishaps to midday New York walks. Ash and Eiji in their humor, in their trauma, and in their unyielding bond. Mid-canon drabble, no specific time-line. Plot without plot.


The brunette stared at him with bemused albeit puzzled eyes. Her curls bounced, and Eiji stared at the golden 'M' stitched into the front of her black visor.

"I'm sorry, we don't carry an—er, sakura McFlurry."

Behind him Ash was already snickering. He hid it behind the back of his palm, but it was just loud enough that Eiji could feel an irritated tremble in his lips beginning to form. Especially whenever he began to stutter and flounder over his response, prompting an energetic guffaw at his expense. This may be America, where disruptions and public scenes were a given. But a lifetime of Japan's rigidness had ingrained in Eiji a sense of public responsibility that had yet to be eroded by the nonchalant behavior of his American counterparts. But pride be damned. His elbow shot out to slam into the side of the sniggering blonde.

"Oh! Sorry about that. It's spring time and I'm a bit nostalgic." The woman waved her hand dismissively with a small burst of giggles as Eiji scratched his cheek sheepishly. Innocent looking, Ash thought behind him. But he was still coughing up his guts, too.

"How about vanilla then?"

"That would be great."

A handful of minutes later, the boys were crinkling up neon papers and painted boxes printed with blocky letters. The grease and salt stuck to Eiji's fingers. But that wasn't what caused his lips to pull downwards.

"I asked you if they had it beforehand," he remarked with a mumble in his words. He was agitated, and it showed. But Ash was digging into his meal with fervor, as if he hadn't had a meal in the last three days. It took Eiji aback. When was the last time he saw him eating this week anyway? His head tilted in thought.

"And I never said a word."

"That's exactly my point!"

"Forgive me, onii-chan."

By this point, Eiji was bristling.

He mumbled something in Japanese that Ash couldn't catch nor did he care to understand. He didn't think to ask about it either. Hunger was gnawing at his guts like a wild beast, wilder than the famed lynx himself. He wasn't going to be sated until he polished off his fries and licked the remnants of flavor from his fingers. Nevertheless, he wasn't impolite, and he was anything but a slob. If there was something Dino did right in his string of miscalculations it was teaching the boy how to dine with the poor and common royalty alike. So even though he finished his meal well before his companion even started on his vanilla McFlurry—not the sakura flavored one he was looking forward to—he didn't make a mess of himself in the process of it. Afterwards he sat there playing with the straw of his Vanilla Coke. It was halfway gone as well. With nothing left for his hands to do, he was staring at Eiji, letting his thoughts drift aimlessly about.

"Sakura?" Ash muttered with his wrist jutting against his chin for support. "That means cherry, right?" He imagined a bright scarlet McFlurry, one with specks of an even darker though still vibrant red scattered throughout.

Eiji's doe-like brown eyes jolted up to meet Ash's jade green. There was delight swimming in their depths already, and the blonde felt a tidal wave of emotion rising and threatening to swallow him up as he relished in this momentary affection. He liked when Eiji looked at him like that. In fact, it was nearly as good as when he was puffing his cheeks and puckering his lips with offense.

"Cherry blossom," Eiji corrected gently. He looked thoughtful for a moment as his eyes passed Ash and turned toward the window they were sitting next too. Outside New York was bustling like always. It was spring, as the boy had mentioned. Some were challenging the lingering chill by wearing short sleeves without jackets. Meanwhile others were still bundled up in their winter ensembles sans the mittens, fluffy ear warmers, and thick knitted scarves. Eiji was being swallowed up in memories. But the silence didn't bother Ash Lynx. No, rather, he imagined what the Japanese must be picturing in that moment.

Ash pictured the contrasting country side of a foreign land rather than the blinking lights, blaring horns, and concrete masses that created the oppressive heat and presence of the Big Apple. Izumo would be a shaded little town of grass and slopping homes next to the sea in his imagination, and it was there that he pictured Eiji in the varying formative years of his lifetime.

He wondered if Eiji's hair curled as it did now whenever he was five, even thirteen. Did he rise early with his parents or was he dragged out of bed to reach school in time? Ash could wonder. He heard they wore uniforms there. Unlike America, where the most basic of public schools allowed so little and so much to be worn by the general population of students. He was sure that Eiji played the obedient school boy back then. After all, Ibe had said as much, didn't he? That Eiji had needed to leave that stuffiness behind.

He had a little sister. A mother, a father, too, that he left behind for what should have been a month long escapade in the States and nothing more than that. He lived in Izumo, and there he had been a champion pole-vaulter, catching the attention of the fatherly Ibe Shunichi. Motherly was more like it, Ash laughed to himself. But it was all in due fun. After all, it was Ibe who had brought Eiji from the shame of his crushed dreams to the openness of America. Ash wondered what that picture really looked like. That picture of him cresting over the bar like the pro Ash was told Eiji had been. There was nothing like seeing Eiji fly in real life. But a picture said a thousand words, and they must have been the thousand other words that he hadn't used before to describe what he saw in real life.

Eiji's slim wrists tapering off into slender and diligent fingers that held tight.

Eiji's waist twisting, muscles straining, taut and firm in his stomach, arms, and those long runner's legs.

Eiji gripping the pole for his vault, and sailing through the air effortlessly as if he really was the bird on that obnoxious T-shirt of his.

Eiji, Eiji, Eiji…

Ash shook his head and swallowed down the lump in the very back of his throat. Damn him, spacing off like that. This wasn't like him at all.

"The cherry blossoms always bloom around this time of year in Japan. Everyone takes advantage of the momentary beauty. Even the businessmen come and drink under the flowers in their suits, laughing as they pass around the sake." Eiiji smiled good-naturedly at the memory. "It's called Hanami, the viewings."

"Ha-nah-mi." Ash repeated curiously, slowing and pushing his brows together in confusion every now and then. He wasn't sure if he said it right. But the way Eiji quirked the side of his mouth upwards made for enough encouragement for him.

"Right. Hanami."

By then the dark haired boy had finished his grilled chicken sandwich and was sitting, sipping, delighting in the cold saccharine taste of the desert that had caused the smallest bit of havoc in their day. When he caught Ash staring again he jerked out his hand in a friendly gesture. Ash locked his lips around the spoon without a second of hesitation. When the vanilla cream had melted on his tongue and Eiji was already taking another bite, without any obvious consideration about them sharing an indirect kiss, Ash licked his lips and crossed his legs. He leaned back and winked across the table in habit that wasn't forced, that wasn't faked.

"Delicious."

Eiji thought that he could hear choking sounds somewhere behind him. But when the ice cream went down the wrong way he suddenly realized that it was very much his own choking that had caused it, and not anyone else. Where did this man get the confidence to do that?!

"Calm down, calm down!" Ash laughed and slapped his hand against Eiji's back. Customers were beginning to stare around them in the burger joint. But that only riled him up more as the sputtering boy's face turned red thoroughly and unmistakably. Another embarrassment for the day. Ash wondered if there was a limit to be reached and decided that he might like to push to find out. But it wasn't like Eiji really gave him the chance to do it. As soon as he gathered himself, resisting the urge to bow low to those around him in apology, Eiji was flinging paper and plastic onto his tray. He cleaned up his mess and Ash's, too, before hurrying to the trash can that was overfilled and practically upchucking the last Happy Meal that had been stuffed into its maw. Well, Ash didn't care anyway. He waved to the cashier as they left.

The walk back home wasn't that long. But the twisting of the sidewalk, the numerous stops and stalls along the way made it seem like an endeavor to endure. Yet it gave him a moment to think. Gave him a moment to stare, and Eiji seemed just as content to enjoy what little privacy they had though they were in the middle of a crowded street. It was a moment where Ash didn't need to be a boss or a beast. It was a second where Eiji wasn't the Japanese bobtail or quivering rabbit.

Ash had been surrounded by the swell of people for all of his lifetime. In some ways it was a comfort now to always hear another voice. New York was rarely silent. It didn't pity the strained, the downtrodden or stressed. It blared its noise for all to hear and asked that they receive it, accept it, or endure it as they only could. He wondered if the noise was different from Japan or if all the cities of the world sounded alike to those that knew their streets and those who heard them with foreign ears.

Still, though he could find peace on the boisterous walkways of the city there was always a sense of anxiety in its innards. It didn't matter how many people were around. The potential for danger was always there. In fact, it was the mass of people itself that could present an opportunity for concealed stabbings, or muggings that you don't notice until you've finally made it home in time just to notice your bad luck. The ominous truth had Ash scouring the crowd with narrowed eyes and tightened fists. His muscles were tense like always. He was ready to pounce, ready to rip apart anyone who came his way with vicious intent. Let them come. He's ready. He's always ready. Especially with Eiji by his side.

He's his weakness. He dully noted it as if it were his mother repeating it to him as admonishment. Blanca had attempted to put it in its finest terms: _a rabbit and a lynx cannot be friends._ And maybe there was truth to that. But that didn't mean he was about to lay down and take it as law. Ash was unorthodox by nature, rebellious as a right, stubborn by habit, and unruly by choice. Like hell he was going to take that shit.

Outwardly, it was weakness. To those that didn't know its intimacy it was faulty emotion creating a gaping opening for attack. While Ash accepted these truths, he could also acknowledge what no one else could: that it was so much more than that.

It took Eiji to dawn the realization that bonding didn't equate to physicalities and scenarios of give, give, give on his behalf alone. He gave his body. Sometimes even his mind. He gave companionship, leadership, pleasure and lewd degradation without blinking any eye. He was so used to handing over every part of himself just to receive so little in return, if anything at all. Men used him up. The gang—well, they took in a different way. In the sort of way that Ash couldn't loathe them for, and that he gave willingly over and over. But Eiji received out of external force, not out of personal intent. It was Ash handing over his solitude to trade for late night conversations. It was his choice to embrace laughter and playful banter rather than cool metal grips, clicking safeties, and folded blades. It was his decision to cradle Eiji's precarious safety in his own hands and encounter every risk to it solely to ensure its destruction and Eiji's preservation.

Not to mention Eiji gave it all back.

He smiled at Ash kindly. Listened to his words in mid-night traumas induced by replaying nightmares. He offered up his purity as a dish for the wilderness of the world to savor if only it meant Ash was home, safe, warm.

Hell, if this was weakness, Ash didn't mind being feeble for the moment.

Ash's arm wound around Eiji's shoulders protectively before they ducked down an alley way abruptly. By now Eiji didn't question him when he did things like this. He was used to it, and the thought alone that he was so willing to bend to whatever will was in Ash's mind had something burning ravenously inside of the blonde's chest.

Footsteps sounded to Eiji's right. There were bricks at his back while the overpowering silhouette of Ash Lynx was there bending over him. Something was dancing in his irises. Iridescent shimmers that twisted the colors of jade in his eyes, transforming them from solid stone to liquefied brilliance that gleamed and shined.

 _Ashu_

"Yeah?"

Eiji hadn't realized he said his name. His fingers twitched at his sides. But he was far from terror, far from stock-stillness out of shock. There was a sense of calm that radiated from his chest and spread outward in warm waves. Content. He was content here with the blonde, even if his body language screamed of some internal struggle that Eiji sensed would eat him alive. Maybe he wanted that, he realized. Though he hadn't a clue what it even meant.

"Forever," Eiji said firmly. "Forever. I meant it."

"I know." Ash sighed. "Forever."

In the pocket of silence no one could hear them. No one could see them.

But Ash could taste him. Eiji could feel him.

And the gentle press of lips was as much a pact as sealed, bloodied hands.


End file.
